Outpourings from the poor old porous mind of Steve Kittell

harmony

Where bumble bees sing to morning blooms, sunshine fills sleepy rooms. Little birds chirp to ring in the day. The town folk thrive and children play. ~ Evening’s all spent cozy and warm; everyone huddles at word of a storm. With a common goal of tranquility, their smiles all share the harmony. ~ Freedom reigns and peace assured, caring for all, we’re all adored. And though this place is yet to be found, in dreams we meet when feet leave the ground.

My mind is still, I know not why.My eyes are open, I see the sky.My ears are working, I hear the birds.My mouth hangs open, but no words.~My hand fidgets with paper and pen.Something will happen, but I know not when.Perhaps some time is what I need.And when it’s done more ink I’ll bleed.~But till then I will pursue,all the feelings, but the blue.I’ll live my life and I’ll dream.I’ll have adventures, but none extreme.~Memories I’ll draw on a canvas bright,stars will guide in the dark of night.And when my thoughts again do flow,it’s harmony I feel this I know.